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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22445170">Click</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Lagoon (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, F/M, Guns, Russian Roulette, Unhealthy Relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 13:14:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22445170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gift fic. Rock plays Russian Roulette after the events of "Roberta's Blood Trail."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rebecca "Revy" Lee/Okajima "Rock" Rokuro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Click</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roanapur was hot as hell.</p><p>It was typical, for the climate, but more so now than anything else. Roberta and her young master were probably home now and living the shade of the normal life that they could. Times were quiet for the Lagoon Company for now, but that was likely to change, especially given how he'd gone against Balalaika.</p><p>Sitting on a moldy couch, his tie askew, Rock held a revolver against the side of his head. He wasn't looking to die, otherwise that would have been easy – put the gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. Though, while it mechanically was easy, the actual ability would have been lost, given how Revy would pull it out of his mouth.</p><p>Revy sat across from him, a glass of hard liquor in her hand. Raising it to her lips, she threw back the shot, the ice cubes clunking audibly. A packet of cigarettes sat on the arm of her chair. The room they sat in was an utter mess, with disused food containers, napkins, and garbage lying everywhere. It wasn't very much different from Revy's typical habits, and were it not for the gun, it would've been a usual conversation between them.</p><p>Or perhaps it still was. What disturbed him was how well he knew Revy, now, and how well she knew him. She'd been a force of nature, when he'd first met her, someone that he wasn't sure he'd ever want to be involved with, but at the same time, someone who saved his hide.</p><p>And there were multiple times where Rock had wished it wasn't the case. Revy was crass, rude, selfish, and utterly psychotic. Rock found, despite his own disgust, himself hoping, hours after the fact, that a shot hadn't gone wide, and in fact hit her, especially after they'd had a petty argument.</p><p>But then her cigarette butt touched his, and things got complicated. He knew what it was like to have his neck crushed between her thighs and feel her ripping the zipper down his pants during a quickie. He also knew that getting fucked until his eyes were ready to pop out of his skull was more sincere than any genteel "I love you."</p><p>Rock knew that he couldn't return to the life that he once knew, despite multiple times of his wanting to yell, "Fuck this," dive off the side of the ship, and swim until either his arms gave out, or he reached Japan, whichever came first. There was simply no way for him to fit in again, and then there was Revy yelling at him to wake up and move his ass whenever he daydreamed over the possibility.</p><p>He knew as well that he'd ventured into the twilight. Even if he tried to help others, he resorted to underhanded tactics that nearly got them killed. He'd been lucky that Revy had wanted to stick out her neck for him as much as she did.</p><p>The chamber spun around. The difference was that Revy would follow him into a war zone, and Rock found that he less and less cared what was on the other side of it, if anything, at all, so long as that long red hair was by his side.</p><p>"You're sure?" Revy asked. Rock nodded. Revy doused her cigarette. "Then pull it."</p><p>Rock pulled the trigger, only for the gun to click. He lowered the revolver to the table beside him. Revy's eyes pierced through him, and Rock, in response, popped the round from the chamber. Revy snorted, and shook her head at him. Standing up, she bumped her shoulder against his before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.</p><p>Rock turned over to lay his cheek on the pillow behind him. A fly buzzed over his nose, and he lazily raised a hand to swat it away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written as a gift for a friend. I wanted to do something a bit quiet, given how Rock and Revy's relationship also has a palpable non-verbal angle.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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